


Walk Home

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: College AU, F/M, No Magic AU, Right Fellow, Wrong number
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5170043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous said:<br/>I’m scared to walk home in the dark and its really late so i called a random number and got you au, please?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk Home

 

Finals week was terrifying. Despite the fact that she’d never failed a final in her life, Belle French continued to be the perfect example of a nervous wreck - her hair uncombed, eyeliner smudged, and her nails chewed to bits as she re-examined her superfluous study guide. Her chemistry professor was particularly ruthless, and she’d been dreading this final since the moment she’d signed up for the course. It was a difficult course, granted, but Belle refused to let that fact ruin the GPA she’d worked countless hours to acquire. She was an English major for a reason - she loathed science - but she still needed the credit to graduate.

The Storybrooke University Library ran 24/7 during finals week, and Belle and her friends had reserved a study room, covering it in blankets, various electronic chargers, papers, pizza boxes, and Ruby had even carried over a Keurig coffee machine. Belle’s friends, Ruby, Emma, and David had pretty much come and go as they pleased throughout the week, with one of them always being there to maintain the home base. It was about fourteen hours until her final, and Belle knew she should get to her dorm room to rest before the exam, but she felt the incessant need to go through her notes again, the color-coded crisp lines comforting her.

“Belles,” Ruby said, spooking Belle from her focus. “We’re going back to the dorm. You coming?”

Belle shook her head, wrapping herself further into a blanket she’d thrown around her shoulders about an hour earlier. “Just a bit longer.”

Belle’s friend Emma put her hand on her shoulder, “You’ll do fine, Belle. Go get some rest.”

“Professor Mills is a pain in my ass,” Belle said firmly, “and I won’t let her have the satisfaction of failing me.”

From the other side of the room, David laughed. “You’ve never failed a thing, French.”

Belle shrugged, then determinedly began reciting the chemical formulas she found so tedious. David rolled his eyes, packing up his notes and joining Ruby and Emma at the door. “You’ll be good to get home by yourself?” David asked before walking out, looking at her seriously, similar to a protective older brother.

“They’ve got the walk-you-home thing going on still, right?” Belle asked, and David nodded. “I’ll just use that. Go! Go to sleep!” she encouraged, miming shoving her friends out the door.

With the trio of trouble gone, Belle returned to her mess of textbooks and essays and papers, losing her thoughts in the memorization games and flashcards she was drilling herself through. The library grew quieter as the time passed, and Belle’s iPod shuffled through her study playlist. She suddenly shivered at the cold of the room. She glanced at the clock - then glanced back again. It was 3am. She hadn’t stayed up this late since - last year’s finals.

Looking around the room, Belle suddenly felt exhausted as she stood from her chair, stretching her arms and legs for the first time in hours. They were sore from inactivity, and she was happy she’d chosen to wear sweatpants and a too-big t-shirt. She folded her blanket, tucking it under her arm and putting her myriad of study materials in her backpack. She headed to the main entrance of the library, looking for the desk of students who volunteered to walk people back at odd hours.

Nobody was there. Belle frowned, turning and looking around the mostly-empty tables of the library. She spotted a library employee, and quickly walked over. “Uhm,” Belle said, tapping their shoulder gently, “Is anyone doing walk homes? I lost track of time and…”

“They had to cancel that tonight. We announced it about an hour ago,” the disgruntled woman said, rolling her eyes like this was obvious.

Belle’s eyes widened, “But I live across campus! I can’t just-”

“I can call campus security,” the woman offered, “but then I’d have to walk all the way over to that phone, call, wait on hold, and get told they’re busy.”

This librarian was clearly no help, and Belle turned away, setting her things at a vacant table and working out the options in her mind. She could, of course, just go, and hope for the best. But the news was filled with stories of pretty young girls being snatched up by lurking men. And Belle hadn’t slept without a nightlight since she was a young girl, the dark had always terrified her. She was sure there was some kind of psychology analysis to be done there, but she hadn’t really worried about it. Campus was fairly well-lit, but being alone with just the sliver of the moon that was visible and her thoughts sent shivers down her spine. Opting to try her friends, Belle called Emma, then Ruby, then David. They all sent her to voicemail. They were asleep, for crying out loud, which was what Belle should be doing.

She eyed a library bench suspiciously, as if sizing it up - she could probably sleep on it - though not comfortably, and she didn’t feel like sleeping near the rude employee. Belle took her wallet out of her backpack and shuffled around, hoping for the number of a restaurant with late hours or a taxi service. She found one card, half bent and dirty, reading:

 

**Will’s Wheels**

**Storybrooke University & Surrounding Locations**

**24/7 Taxi Service, No Questions Asked**

**333-333-1111**

Yes. She knew she had to have something like this. The company distributed their business cards at parties, making sure nobody drove home impaired. Belle pulled out her cell phone again, dialing the number, waiting, and - “Is this Will?”

“What?” Belle asked, frowning and re-reading the card’s number.

“Is this Will? Of Will’s Wheels? Probably not, idiot can’t call his own cell phone…” a gruff voice grumbled on the other line, and Belle didn’t know whether she should hang up or stay on the line to figure out this guy’s problem.

“No,” Belle replied slowly, “This is Belle. I need a ride from -”

“I’m not a bloody taxi service!” the man said instantly, “You people keep calling and I can’t-”

“Why is your number the number on this card then?” Belle asked, leaning back in her chair and feeling like she was about to go on an adventure.

“You want the story, dear?” he asked, chuckling a bit. “It’s ridiculous. I went to the doctor to get X-Rays, you can’t bring phones in, and I chucked it in the bucket they had in the waiting room. Exit, and there’s two  iPhone 6’s in the bucket, so I grab one and go.”

“You didn’t check the background?” Belle replied, mulling over his story.

“I never use my phone, dear, really, but now this damn thing won’t stop ringing and I can’t drive anyone anywhere-”

Belle felt like she heard someone talking, and she rose from her chair as the man rambled on about how terrible his phone mix-up was. She looked through a few aisles, getting an annoyed glare from the librarian, and finding a man sitting at a table in a secluded corner, talking on a cell phone. She kept her distance from him, and when he finally stopped talking, she said sweetly, “You could just turn it off.”

“Oh, novel idea!” he replied. “But I want this guy to call me so I can get my phone back!”

Belle watched as the man spoke animatedly with his hands, and she hung up the phone call. What were the chances she’d called someone who was in the Central Library, just like she was?

She walked over to the table, things in tow. It was now or never. “Hello,” she said, dropping her bag on the table. “Can you walk with me to the Charming House?”

The man was older, with long, graying hair, and he looked up from the phone he was staring at. Belle realized she’d seen him around campus before - often wearing a full suit, rushing some place or the other with a briefcase. She’d just assumed he was a professor, but they didn’t frequent the library at this time of night. Belle had pointed him out to Emma once, saying he was cute, but Emma said she’d heard he was a hard grader.

His brown eyes were so deep and vibrant she almost couldn’t look away, and he frowned at her. “Were you-”

“The girl you were just on the phone with?” Belle said, holding up her phone, complete with sparkly case. “Yep.”

He looked like he didn’t know whether to smile, frown, or smirk. “What a strange coincidence.”

“Yes,” Belle replied, “But let’s discuss how odd it is as you walk me to my dorm.”

It was probably not her wisest decision, walking home with this man she’d only seen in passing, but he had been there for two years and if he was employed by the university, he should be a fairly safe choice to walk her to her room. Rather him than the librarian. Belle could only hope she wouldn’t regret this last-second decision, but she was grasping at straws for other options.

The man looked from her face to the papers spread out in front of him, sighing. “These essays will never be graded.”

“Are you a professor?” Belle asked, feeling slightly oblivious as she tilted her head to catch the titles of the papers he was reading.

“Teacher’s assistant and graduate student,” he said, shoving them all in a bag before she could figure out his subject. “Let’s get you to the Charming House. Which is, if rumors hold true, less than charming.”

Belle laughed, keeping up with his quick pace out of the library. “I killed a cockroach last week. Size of my thumb.”

He barked out a laugh, then looked at the hand she’d held out for size comparison. “Small hands, though.”

“Small everything,” she pointed out, noticing the height difference between them. He was thin for a man, but a good head taller than her. “Which is why I need someone like you to walk with me.”

“Could’ve called campus security,” he retorted, and Belle shook her head as they began the long walk through the emptied campus to Belle’s dorm.

“The librarian was rude when I asked,” Belle said. “I could’ve gone alone, really, I just… hate the dark.”

“The dark?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Since I was a kid.”

“You’re still a kid,” he pointed out, and she rolled her eyes. “I’m twenty-one.”

“Ancient,” he replied, and she could see a sparkle in his eyes through the dim streetlights.

“You’re hardly the crypt keeper,” she said, hoping the darkness was hiding the fact she couldn’t stop looking at him. He was definitely older than she was, but he seemed cool - something almost magnetizing about his appearance that made her not want to look away. Mysterious. Just her type.

He simply smiled in return, and the walk grew silent. “Why were you there so late, anyway?” he asked. “There’s finals, you should get some sleep.”

“I know,” Belle said, “I’ve got this final I dread tomorrow - well, today, I guess,” she amended.

“What class?” he inquired, and she could tell her was genuinely interested, not just making chit-chat out of boredom.

“Chemistry. Regina Mills’ teaches it, and I think she’s got it out for me.”

“She’s got it out for everyone,” he said, glancing down at her. She’d been watching his reaction, his quick annoyance when she mentioned Regina. Upon catching his eye, Belle turned her gaze to the leaf-covered ground.

Belle shrugged. “I like good grades, and I hate science… What are you studying?”

“History,” he replied. “What’s your major?”

“English,” Belle said, “specifically Literature.”

He nodded. “Figures.”

“What figures?”

“That you’re an English major. Quick-thinker, organized, determined, a bit ditzy..” when Belle glared at him, he corrected himself. “Ditzy about the time. It’s 3:30am.”

“I know what time it is,” Belle said, wishing desperately she was wrapped up in the safety of her dorm room instead of the somewhat-creepily emptied campus. Any sane person was asleep right now.

“Maybe we’re not sane,” the man replied. Belle hadn’t realized she had said the last bit out loud, and she also realized she had just begun calling him Brown Eyes in her head. “What’s your name?” she asked quickly, laughing a bit. “I just realized I don’t know it.”

“Harrison Gold,” he replied, “and I’m sure you’ve told me your name but it’s escaping me-”

“Belle,” she said, smiling quietly. “Belle French.”

He paused then, offering his hand for her to shake. Belle stared at it awkwardly for a second, cursing herself for not being quicker. But, she had just drained her energy by studying for hours, so she couldn’t be too hard on herself. On the other hand, Harrison - Mr. Gold - who knew? was very nice and very handsome, and she didn’t want to seem like a loser in front of him. She could see the outline of the Charming House grow closer, and she felt both relieved - she could finally sleep - but sad that she’d have to say goodbye.

Harrison told her about someone misunderstanding an essay prompt in a terribly funny way, but Belle was beginning to feel like everything was terribly funny. She hoped her giggles didn’t seem forced, but it was nearly 3:45am and she’d never seen 4am before, and had no intention too. They arrived to the front of the Charming House, and Belle swiped her student ID card, opening the doorway.

“Thank you so much,” Belle said, her voice sincere. “You made that horrid walk a bit less horrid.”

“My pleasure,” he said with a little bow. “Don’t stay up so late next time.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “Goodnight, Harrison.”

He began to turn away, but then looked at her again. “Ah-  Belle. Would you be interested in meeting again? After finals, of course, at an hour not reserved for vampires?”

Belle smiled. “That would be nice,” she said softly, and he nodded. “And I’ve already got your number!” Belle pointed out, and they both laughed.

“Hopefully, I’ll have my real phone back by then,” he said, offering her a thin smile and a paper card with his contact information. “Now, go get some rest. Good luck with Mill’s final.”

“Thank you,” Belle repeated, “for everything.”


End file.
